


fulfill the side of my bed

by jupiterrism



Category: Bumilangit Cinematic Universe, Gundala (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, i love any prompts that isnt mine, i love this prompt so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 01:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21262508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiterrism/pseuds/jupiterrism
Summary: based on @pissedofsandwich's prompt (https://twitter.com/tinysanciki/status/1189900700014088192).Here's the thing: his divorce papers have just been finalized, so don't blame him when he starts doing something reckless, like sleeping with the enemy.Does he know Ghazul only wants information? Yes.The problem: he doesn't care.





	fulfill the side of my bed

His hands are numb.

Ridwan stares at his splayed hands, making a fist and feeling his nails digging into his skin. Feel, feel, _ feel _ — how do people cope with this?

He should've seen it coming. He knows he is not the most perfect husband, always too caught up with his job and putting other people over himself, over his family. Decades of marriage went downhill and it's only with a hefty amount of self-control, Ridwan doesn't fling himself off the building. 

Blood seeps from the crescent-shaped cuts in his palm and he's still numb.

Everything goes in a haze. It's final, and while his love for his wife (ex-wife now?) has blurred into the background rather than fiery and all-consuming feelings they had when they got together, it still _ hurts _. It hurts to see how half of his stuff have migrated out of their place, and the space usually occupied by his wife is now empty.

They don't love each other anymore, but separation always leaves a bad taste on his tongue. Not to mention his children — Ridwan shoved the thoughts into the back of his head. His chest clenches painfully, and it takes nearly everything in him to swallow his tears.

His throat burns. His palm stings. But beyond that, he still doesn't _ feel _ anything.

It's sometimes after 21.00 when Ridwan finally slips out of his office and locks the door behind him. He couldn't stand the pitying look and quiet whispers when people saw him — even Hasbi was being excessively nice to him. Some say he cheated over his wife — lies and slander, but he did cheat on her with his paperworks.

A door next to his slips open and a tall figure steps out of it. The hallway is dimly lit, only illuminating a small part of the other person's face.

"Pak Ridwan." It's Ghani Zulham and while he doesn't know this Zulham person, he sounds pleasant. "Lembur, Pak?"

Ridwan tries to dig his head for an information about this person. _ Oh_. CEO of Ghapharma, most successful CEO under 40, somehow acquainted with Haidar Subandi. Now that he thinks of that, Zulham just got out of Pengkor's office.

"Ngga, saya mau pulang." To his cold and barren house — no longer home, no, and it's stupid of him not to move out when there's so many memories lingering in the corner. "Mari." With a nod, Ridwan walks past the man, fervently hoping he won't encounter anyone on his way to the parking lot.

To his surprise, Zulham walks along with him. "Boleh saya jalan bersama Bapak? Kebetulan saya mau ke parkiran mobil juga." They walk under a lamp and Ridwan catches his face — Zulham is smiling, and unlike Pengkor, it seems genuine. But Ridwan has learned not to trust anyone here.

He shrugs a shoulder, and as they arrive in front of the elevator, Ridwan makes a gesture towards it. "Silakan." He's been warned, multiple times, not to engage in any conversations with anyone close to Pengkor. Ganda Hamdan, Ghani Zulham — those two are on the top list. They're always seen with Pengkor, and everyone avoids them like a hive.

Ah, screw them. Once the news of his divorce gets out, he might as well be toasted.

The other man is quiet next to him, eyes staring straight. Again, Ridwan never quite sees Zulham — Pengkor really does have the ability to steal attention, and this is his first time laying his eyes on him. Zulham is way taller than him, to his dismay. He has discarded his bulky coat and leaves it hanging on his forearm — wide shoulders and broad chest, amazing physique in general. It's a wonder why he'd want to be associated with Pengkor.

"Kenapa di kantor sampai jam segini, Pak?" Zulham looks… almost sympathetic, head ducked a little and a small smile on his lips. Ridwan almost wants to squint at him.

The elevator dings open and it slides open. "Tadi saya masih ngurusin berkas-berkas, tiba-tiba udah jam 9." Half-truth — he really did forget to go home but not with that reason. Zulham hums and steps aside, allowing Ridwan to get out of the elevator first before he follows.

The parking lot is barren, not one of his bodyguards are around and Ridwan has told his chauffeur to go home early. He is in no mood to be around people and it's only his ill luck that he got to see Zulham tonight. Next to him, Zulham lets out a noise in surprise. "Nyetir sendiri, Pak?"

Ridwan pauses in his steps towards his car and turns around to face the other man, once again shrugging his shoulders. "Saya udah lama ngga bawa mobil sendiri." Zulham is staring at him, eyes cold, and all of a sudden, the planes of his face seem jagged under the neon light. A look passes through him, too quick for Ridwan to catch, and he smiles, all sharpness gone.

"Selamat malam, Pak Ridwan." Zulham inclines his head, a curve on his lips. "Hati-hati di jalan."

Something tells Ridwan to be careful. There is something unsettling about Zulham — no one masters their body language as good as Ghani Zulham. Even Ridwan — he's been spending half of his life in politics and yet, he still does stupid things, like being too open to anyone. 

But Ridwan returns the smile, nodding his head towards Zulham. "Terima kasih. Anda juga, hati-hati di jalan." And as he walks away from Zulham, he misses the contemplative look on the other man's face.

.&.

News reporters really do have a penchant in making his life hard. The news of his divorce should be getting out in three days, not right when he steps out of the court. The blinding flash from a camera is enough to make him startle to a halt, and that's when Ridwan notices reporters have swarmed the court.

"Ridwan Bahri, Ridwan Bahri! Apa benar —"

"Pak Ridwan! Istri Anda —"

"Bagaimana dengan anak-anak —"

God, his personal life never arouses public's interest, not even when he got married and have children. so why do they start now? Ridwan defies all questions and slips into a car that has been waiting for him on the secluded corner, ears buzzing from the noise.

"Antar saya ke kantor, ya." The car speeds up silently. Ridwan is exhausted — he didn't have enough sleep, mind plagued with worry and anxiety, and he just wants to rest. He just wants to be free from everything.

As expected, the whole office is filled with whispers when Ridwan steps his feet on it. Eyes are on him, and Ridwan suddenly has the urge to poke them — why are they so invested in him anyway? Someone jogs close and stops next to him — it's Hasbi. His assistant has a smile on his face, though he is radiating worry.

"Pak Ridwan, ini berkas yang Bapak minta." Hasbi hesitates, as if he's about to say something, but he hands Ridwan the file anyway. Maybe it's something on his face, Ridwan muses as he watches Hasbi heads to his own office. It's a good thing Hasbi already had the file ready, he needs distraction and something to dunk his head into.

.&.

Someone is in his office. There is a warm hand on his back, nudging him awake, and a silhouette of a man standing next to him. Ridwan rouses himself from the way he's slumped over his desk, blinking sleep away. There is one voice, soft and understanding, and a face swarms into his vision as he rubs his eyes viciously.

"Pak Ridwan." It's Zulham, and he sounds relieved. "Saya kira Bapak kenapa-kenapa."

With a groan, Ridwan straightens up in his seat. His spine cracks as he stretches, shoulders and neck tense from the unfavorable position. "Saya ketiduran." He steals a glance from the clock above him — 21.30 already, no wonder nobody woke him up. He'd rather sleep in his office than spending another sleepless night in his place.

Zulham is watching him critically, he still has one hand on Ridwan's back and he leans close. "Bapak saya antar pulang, ya?" Ridwan thought he might have heard of his divorce news — he sounds sympathetic and there's something warm in his voice, or maybe it's just Ridwan's head altering his perception of reality.

Ridwan has a mind to say _ no, thanks, _he's an adult pushing to his 50s, he doesn't need help, but he stops short. And nods his head. Zulham beams at him and in no time, he ushers Ridwan towards the parking lot. It's dangerous to play with fire, but Ridwan couldn't help but be drawn to its warmth. It's only time until it burns him down to ashes and frankly, he doesn't mind.

"Kita mampir makan dulu gimana, Pak?" Ridwan glances at the man behind the steering wheel in curiosity. Zulham only smiles at him, though he doesn't avert his gaze from the road. "Bapak belum keluar dari ruangan Bapak _ sama sekali _. Pasti belum makan juga." The man aims his dazzling smile at Ridwan and it takes a fool to overlook how gorgeous Zulham is. Still —

"Mau makan di mana?" The man basically radiates victory next to him, when he says that. And as Zulham rattles several restaurants, Ridwan could only watch the man in fascination. Just what the hell is Ghani Zulham?

.&.

Zulham — or_ Ghani_, that's what the man has insisted Ridwan to call him with — is brilliant. The man is charismatic to the core, eloquence, and a visionary. Ridwan hasn't been able to comprehend why Ghani would want to work along with Pengkor.

They're sitting in a dark corner of a bar, and while it's not the ideal place to have dinner, Ghani has insisted.

"_Makanannya enak-enak, Pak, _ " then he paused, sending a meaningful look to Ridwan, "_dan Bapak kelihatannya sedang butuh minum_."

And that's why there is a bottle of whiskey on their table, among empty plates. Ghani is explaining something about his pharmacy, hands fluttering wildly around him and Ridwan couldn't help but smile at the display of such excitement. Young blood, he thinks wistfully. He's buzzed, the first time he feels warm after his clusterfuck of a divorce, and he's seeking comfort from a man he might as well call an enemy and a bottle of alcohol. Pathetic.

It's a habit, for him to touch his ring finger when he's talking with someone. The weight around his finger is reassuring, but when Ridwan touches nothing but _ skin _ , he couldn't help but pausing in surprise. _ Right, divorced_.

Ghani notices, _ of course he does_, and his eyes soften. "Beritanya di mana-mana." Ridwan snorts at that and proceeds to empty his tumbler in one gulp. The liquid burns his throat and warms him up, and when Ridwan answers, his voice doesn't waver.

"Tentu saja." His voice is steady, bitter. Ridwan scrubs a hand over his face and watches as Ghani fills his glass full. "Keluar dari pengadilan langsung diserbu sama wartawan." The amber liquid gleams under the light. Ghani's laugh warms him up the way the alcohol doesn't. His throat doesn’t burn anymore, but his whole body does under Ghani's eyes.

.&.

It has become a sort of routine for them. Whenever Ridwan falls asleep in his office, there will be Ghani, trying to rouse him up. When he finishes before 21.00, he will find himself walking along Ghani towards the parking lot. Once is a mistake, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern — and Ridwan thinks he's formed a habit here.

The younger man takes him to dinner too, basically showering him with alcohol. He's warmed up and Ridwan has stopped caring after the fourth time he found himself all pressed up against Ghani.

He's lost count on how many nights he has spent with Ghani. Contrary to Pengkor, Ridwan knows exactly what Ghani is doing — whatever he's doing, he wants to dissect Ridwan open and extracts whatever information he has. And honestly, if Ghani asks nicely, Ridwan would let him. If he's going down, he's going down alone.

It's weird to see Ganda Hamdan treating him with begrudging respect. It's even weirder for him when Pengkor acts pleasant around him. Hasbi is just confused, mostly. The other parliament members openly disagree with him with his choice of associate — Ridwan couldn't bring himself to care.

He's noticed Ghani's lingering gaze at him. While it's definitely flattering, Ridwan has no idea what the other man sees in him. But when Ghani's gaze drops to his mouth, Ridwan flashes him a smirk.

"Udah malam. Kamu tidur di tempat saya aja malam ini." Ghani smiles at him, as if he knows what Ridwan has been thinking and as they head to Ridwan's place, he has a hand on his lower back. Grounding, possessive — his brain is in confusion. 

He's closing 50, he's too old for one-night stands — it's been a while since he's with a man, but Ghani's lips are hot against his, huge palms roaming along his torso. He has Ridwan pressed up against the wall and there's no mistaking where this will lead to. A moan escapes him and Ghani swallows it down, tongue insistent licking into his mouth.

Ghani is sprawled on his bed, eyes bright and lips swollen red, and as Ridwan meets his gaze from where he's straddling the younger, he pulls Ridwan down for another kiss. _ Something _ hard slides between the cleft of his ass, hot and insistent, and Ridwan grinds down, drawing a moan from Ghani. Ridwan can feel himself burn under the intensity of his stare. But it's okay, when he burns, he will go down alone.

There's a pillow against his cheek, fist clenching on the sheets, and one particular hard thrust from behind turns Ridwan into a gasping mess. Ghani's grip on his waist is enough to leave bruises, the way his nails dig into the skin, but Ghani leans in to press his lips against his ear, heavy pants drowning the pain away. The younger is scorching against his back, pressed in a way that leaves him unable to move — he could only lay there and just _ take _ everything. 

"_Ridwan _." The moan against his ear is full of desire, sending heat throughout his body and sends him into a mindless frenzy. Ghani has thrown him into a haze, turning his brain into mush with his clever hips and hands and tongue, and when it's time to break, no one will be there to help him. But Ghani makes him feel alive, makes him aware of his hammering heart under his ribcage, and Ridwan doesn't care if he will end up shattered.

When Ghani comes, it's quiet except for his breath that comes in a rush. But his grip tightens on his waist, and with one last snap of his hips, he empties himself into the rubber. He has the stamina of a horse and it's long since Ridwan's own release. Ridwan is limp underneath him, muscles turning into jelly, and all he can do is flopping down on the wet patch on his bed and swats playfully at Ghani when the younger man chuckles. "Istirahat, Ridwan. Besok pagi saya buatkan kopi." Ridwan feels lips against his nape and a comforting presence pressed up against his back, sleep washes over him like a wave.

.&.

Ridwan mistook things, it's normal. He miscalculated things too, he's only human. But what he fails to understand is that his relationship with Ghani Zulham goes beyond his comprehension. One meeting turns into two, and soon it's basically a routine for them. From one-night stand to a pseudo-relationship, Ridwan is too old for this but — 

Ghani acts the same towards him and he's not shy with his touches. Pengkor saw them, Ganda saw them, and to say it's strange that they started to treat him with genuine respect doesn't even cover the oddity of his situation. People call Ghani "Ridwan Bahri's boytoy" and when it's definitely offensive, Ghani waves it off with a smile and goes to touch Ridwan. 

Ridwan is far from clueless — he knows what Ghani is doing. He knows that the younger man has been snooping around his apartment every time he spends the night there, looking into his work laptop and his documents in the middle of the night when he thinks Ridwan is fast asleep. They have different goals — Ridwan is seeking pleasure and Ghani is seeking information. Ridwan understands, he knows whatever they have now won't last long.

It's 8 months into their "relationship" — the word "friends with benefits" doesn't sit well with Ridwan — and they're pleasantly buzzed from all the scotch. Ghani is naked — he always sleeps nude — and Ridwan has his leg draped over his waist. His hand roams along Ghani's bare torso, fingers catching his chest hair, but his skin is warm under his touch. 

"Kenapa kamu mau sama saya?" The question is out before Ridwan could think better of it. He doesn't dread the answer, he knows the truth, and whatever answer Ghani decides to say won't affect him. Still, his stomach grows tight.

The indentation around his ring finger is gone but Ridwan oftens catch himself rubbing his thumb against it. A nervous tic, Ghani had said with a smile, and now Ridwan is doing it again.

Ghani's hand stills in Ridwan's hair, and he glances down with a curious look on his face. He looks contemplative. "Kenapa tiba-tiba tanya seperti itu? 

Ridwan shrugs, keeping his face neutral. "Penasaran aja." He sends a poke against Ghani's middle, causing the younger man to squirm. "Kenapa?"

To his surprise (and wary), Ghani leans in to press his lips on Ridwan's forehead and down to his nose. "Karena saya cinta kamu." There's even a warm smile on his lips, eyes soft and full of affection.

Lies, lies, _ lies _ — their relationship is built upon deceit but Ridwan returns the smile and leans in to catch his lips into a scorching kiss. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE THIS TOO MUCH HHHASJASDHDSJHSJHDSJ


End file.
